Armed and  Maybe Slightly Dangerous, Maybe
by Aphaea
Summary: Ruth and Beth live together. What could possibly go wrong? Crack!fic, Ruth and Beth with a bit of Harry/Ruth thrown in for fun. First story, I was forced by Bossanovababy24 to post it!


**A/N: **

**This is definitely not my first Spooks fanfiction but it is the first one I've posted so be as nice as you can. My partner in crime – BossaNovaBaby24 – and I have decided that Ruth and Beth are BFFs and get into trouble all the time. I love all the characters and no offense is intended, it's just supposed to be funny. If it's rubbish, blame BossaNovaBaby24 for making me post it.**

**I own nothing, especially not the characters or the show.**

Kidnapped

"Wow, I love what you've...not done with the place."

Ruth ignored the younger woman and again cursed Lucas for his 'suggestion'. Why did Beth have to stay with her? If Lucas thought it was so important, couldn't she have stayed with _him_? Now she had a practical stranger sharing her space and insulting her.

"Seriously, have you actually decorated since you moved into here?"

Ruth struggled to think and then smiled triumphantly. "Yes. I added that rug on the floor when I dropped a glass of red wine."

"Wow, you sure proved me wrong, didn't you?"

"Look, Miss Bailey, if you want to live somewhere with better furniture, there's a Hilton just down the road."

"Miss Bailey? I'm not living with someone who calls me that."

"Of course. That must be reserved for your servants, right?"

"Oh no. I get them to call me 'm'lady.' Which room is mine?"

Harry would cover for her if she killed the girl. Right?

...

The first couple of days were...slightly tense. They were simply very different people. Ruth was practical and frugal and sensible and Beth...wasn't. One evening, Ruth came home to find Beth hanging out of the window by one ankle. Apparently, she'd been annoyed at the lack of television channels and had tried to hack into the neighbour's cable. It made perfect sense to her.

"Can't you ever keep a low profile?"  
"I can keep a low profile," an offended Beth said. "I've been undercover and everything."

"You were undercover as a Russian prostitute. That's hardly discrete."

"I can be discrete!"

"I have lived here five years and nobody even knows my name. Five days and _everyone_ knows your name."

"Nobody knows your name? Doesn't that make you sad?"

Ruth couldn't really answer that.

...

After a few weeks and heated discussions, things calmed down. It might have made more sense for Beth to move into a hotel or get her own place but it just made sense for them to be in the same place. They worked the same crazy hours, knew each other's routines and could bear each other. Besides, it was quite nice to have the company. Not that Ruth would ever admit that. She'd never hear the end of it.

...

It was a cloudy Saturday. Nothing special really. Except for a couple of things. Ruth was at home after she'd gotten fed up of Harry being angsty. Just hadn't been able to cope with it.

So, she was on the sofa with a bowl of chocolate and a bottle of wine. Okay, it was only noon but who cared? Nobody was there to judge.

At the first sound of movement outside her door, Ruth jolted. When she heard the jangle of keys, she relaxed. Dangerous people would hardly use keys.

It was Beth. Dangerous people apparently _did_ use keys.

"Shouldn't you be on a mission with Lucas?" Ruth asked as way of greeting.

"I was."  
"Why aren't you there now?"

"Harry maybe sent me home."

"What? Why?"

"I maybe deliberately punched Lucas in the face."

"As part of a cover?"

"No. He was just really annoying me."

"What? Beth, you can't go around physically assaulting members of your team."

"Yeah, I just did."

"It's hardly productive in establishing a team trust. Aristotle said..."

"Aristotle can bite me. If Lucas is going to throw his weight around and act like a jackass, I'm going to punch him. Is that wine?"

"Um, no?"

"It's Ribena cleverly disguised in a wine bottle? Can I have some?"

"Only if you promise to behave better and..."

"I'll grab my vodka instead."

...

A glass of vodka later and Beth was being rather indiscrete. In fact, Ruth found herself wincing at most of the things that the blonde said. She had no respect for authority or her superiors. Her impression of a depressed Harry was quite funny though.

"Beth, please promise me that you'll try harder to get along with Lucas."

"What? No. He needs to lighten up a little. You're not my _mother_. Although you do act like one."

Ruth was horrified. "Take that back."

"That you act like a mother? You really do."

"No, I'm not. I just...care."

Beth snorted and put down her vodka. "Sure thing."

"Can you use a coaster? I hate ring marks on the table."

...

The two women were now in separate rooms. They weren't _sulking_ because they were too mature to sulk. But...yes, they were sulking really. Beth had some awful music on very loud and Ruth was glaring a hole in the wall. It was as if they'd known each other for years.

Ruth was debating on going to the kitchen (slamming lots of doors on the way to make a point, of course) when something smashed through her window.

She hadn't had a lot of the 'Ribena' so it didn't take her long to see the smashed glass, look at the black object on the floor and watch the smoke steadily leak from it.

"Oh, no."

...

When Ruth barrelled in through her bedroom door, Beth smiled smugly. She _knew_ that Ruth would be the one to give in first.

"See? You're a mother to the last. You just can't help..."

"Beth, someone just threw a smoke grenade through my window."

Damn. Ruth hadn't given in first. They were being attacked instead. At least it livened up a boring Saturday.

...

"Okay, so what did you see?"

"I saw a grenade on my floor. It was leaking smoke."

"Which direction did it come from? Was it thrown or fired?"

"I don't know! I was deciding how hard to slam the kitchen door!"

"I knew it! You try so hard to be prim and proper but you're as childish as anyone else I know."

"Can we focus? Listen!"

The two women huddled by the bed (Surely Beth was too old for _posters_ on her walls? And they'd leave terrible marks. They'd have to talk about that. Later).

From outside the room came the sound of rappels and people entering the flat. Beth dragged the bed back from against the wall and started digging out weapons. Guns, knives, bats...

"Beth, how did you get all this into the apartment? I would have noticed it!"  
"Ruth, I'm a spy. It's kind of my job. What do you want? Take your pick."

Ruth gingerly picked up one piece of metal. "I don't even know what this is."

"I thought you'd like it. It's a flail. Quite vicious when used with the right amount of force. It's capable of taking a man's head off."

She dropped it rather quickly. "Um, maybe not."

"Ruth, people have invaded your apartment. I don't think they're here to clean the windows. You do know how to use a gun, don't you?"

"Of course I do! I work for MI5 as well, remember?"

Determined to prove Beth wrong, she picked up a gun and tried to look badass. These things were heavier than she thought.

"Ruth, these people probably want to kill us."

"Yes, I know. And I'm fully prepared to defend myself."

"Then you might want to consider taking the safety off."

...

Ruth followed Beth's lead. The blonde might have been annoying and rather arrogant, but she did have more training in the field. There had been a brief moment when things might have been different but it didn't go quite as planned.

"Ruth, you go first."

She had been quite pleased that Beth thought her capable enough of leading the charge but it hadn't worked out like that.

"You want me to lead us into the breach?"  
"No, I don't want you shooting me in the back. If you do something stupid and drop the gun, I want the bad guys to be in the way."

She was definitely upping the rent.

...

There were a _lot_ of people in her front room. At least a dozen men. Ruth didn't even know that her flat could hold that many people but it apparently could. They were all dressed in black, very well armed and looked quite scary. It was almost like the Battle of Thermopylae. They were outnumbered and outarmed but...

Beth jerked her back – just in time to avoid a bullet.

"Ruth, are you an idiot?"  
"No! I got a first in my degree! I..."

"For God's sake, keep your head down! Nobody cares about your bloody degree!"

...

They were now huddled behind a kitchen counter and every now and then, Beth would peek out to assess the situation.

"Do you really not care about my degree?"

"What?"

"My degree. You said nobody cared."  
"Really? Are we really doing this now? People are trying to kill us."

"I'm just concerned. Do you think I boast about it? I don't want to seem big headed."

"No, Ruth, you're not big headed. I'm just...I'm just jealous, okay?"

"Really? You're jealous of me?"

Beth let out a hiss of triumph as she jumped up and knocked down a man with a well aimed bullet.

"Yes, I'm jealous. You're smart and put together and I'm just the girl who shoots things."

"If you applied yourself, you'd be more than capable of..."

"Yes, we'll do that when we've saved ourselves from death, okay? Can we discuss it later? After the bad people are dead?"

...

They were at an impasse. The 'bad guys' didn't act as though they wanted Beth and Ruth dead but the two women definitely wanted the strangers dead. Unfortunately, they didn't have the resources or the numbers to make this happen so Ruth's best idea was to call in reinforcements while Beth kept shooting.

...

"Harry, we're in somewhat of a situation."  
"Ruth, what's wrong? Oh, don't say that you and Beth are having another fight."

"You think I'd call you about something that petty?"

Harry was in the middle of responding when he heard the gunfire. "Good Lord, is Bailey actually _shooting_ at you?"

"No! It's the people that have broken into my flat! Beth was trying to negotiate with them while I called you."

"You let her negotiate? What in heaven's name were you thinking?"

"Harry, listen to me! People are shooting at us! Can you send a team over to help?"

While Ruth had expected an immediate agreement, there was a pause. A rather long pause. Almost long enough to make her think that the phone had died.

"Harry?"

"We're in an awkward situation now, aren't we?"

"What? No, we're not! Beth and I are being shot at. That's an awkward situation. You and I are not in any awkwardness."

"It's almost ironic. If you had accepted my proposal those months ago instead of cruelly spurning me, then I would be obliged to save you."

Ruth spluttered at the phone. "There is not one part of that sentence that isn't offensive."

"I'm just saying. As my wife, or even fiancée, I would be required to defend your honour. Now..."

"I'm still a valuable member of your team! A friend?"

"I'm not sure that you could even call us that anymore."

"This is unbelievable! You know what, Harry? You can take your 'obligations' and shove them up your pompous, angsty..."

As if recalling her back to the serious events at hand, Beth's foot stepped back as she avoided a bullet and knocked the phone away. For good measure, Ruth 'accidently' stood on it.

"Uh, Ruth, I think it's time that you start the negotiations," Beth said. "I think I got off on the wrong foot with them and..."

"You insulted them and then shot at them, didn't you?"  
"It was only a warning shot! And I could have insulted them so much worse."

"Yes, I'm sure of that."

...

Making sure that Beth was behind her (surely the girl wouldn't shoot _her_?), Ruth raised her empty hands and slowly stood up from behind the kitchen cabinet. The bad guys all holstered their weapons.

She tried to remember her classes from negotiation training. Calm voice, slow speech and be as unthreatening as possible.

"I don't want to shoot anyone," she said softly. "And I don't think you want to shoot anyone either."

"I want to shoot them all," Beth said. She got points for honesty but not for anything else.

"I'm fond of this flat and I'd rather you didn't destroy it. Or kill us. So can we maybe come to some kind of agreement?"

"That would be suitable," the man in front said. "We are running rather low on ammunition."

"They're Russian," Ruth hissed to Beth – trying to be discrete.

"Of course they're Russian," Beth said – very indiscreetly. "It's always the Russians. God, Ruth, are you sure you work for MI5? You don't seem to know a lot."

The need to provide a united front was the only thing keeping Ruth from kicking her 'friend' in the shins.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"We know that the two of you work for MI5."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"We saw Miss Bailey hanging out of the window from her ankle in a move specific to MI5 training."

Ruth sent her house guest a withering look. "I _told_ you. I _told_ you to be more careful. Hanging out of a window just so you can watch 'E!News' or something equally as tragic."

"It is not tragic! At least it's in the modern day! You only watch programmes based on things from two thousand years ago! No wonder you're so out of date!"

"What? How dare you? Just because I have more between my ears than the latest fashion!"

The boss (who was definitely Russian) cleared his throat.

"Sorry, ladies, but can we focus on me? I'm the one holding you hostage, remember?"

Recalling this important fact, both women turned to him and he actually took a step back because of their combined glares.

"Um, anyway..."  
"Yes, what are you doing with us?"

"You work for MI5. We require information about the organisation and you seem the easiest targets to acquire..."

"Oh, come on!"

Everyone looked stunned at Ruth's outburst. She was probably the most surprised of all. Still, there was no need to stop now.

"You need information so you decide to kidnap the girls because we're 'easiest'? That's pathetic! What century do you live in? What about taking Lucas who would be too distracted by his hair to fight back? What about Tariq who has _never_ left his desk? Or _Harry_? Christ, why didn't you go for Harry? He's older than us and less able to fight back. At the minute, he even deserves to be kidnapped!"

The kidnappers, although wearing masks, had expressions akin to someone being hit around the head with a tree branch. And Ruth knew what that expression looked like.

Beth was beaming.

"I knew you had it in you, Ruth! All that "data analysing" is just a show. You're scary, really."

"I don't want to be scary." Ruth said and somewhat ruined the whole effect.

...

The two women were hustled down the stairs and out of the flat. While Beth struggled and swore, Ruth stayed placid. If they wanted to kidnap her, they were going to do it. What was the point in fighting? She attracted trouble anyway.

She did, however, try to garner some attention from people on the streets but nobody paid the blindest bit of notice. It was _London_. Aliens could land on the street and people would still turn away.

"I'm going to kill you," Beth told the Russians in a very matter of fact way. "I will actually end up killing you."

"I won't hold my breath."

The fight went out of Beth when she saw the transport vehicle. "A white van? Really?"  
"What did you expect?"

"You abseiled down the side of our building from the roof and broke in with a smoke grenade. Then you drag us down some steps and into the back of a _white van_? That's pathetic. That's actually sad. Why bother with the sneaky entrance?"

"It was to take you off guard."  
"What about the very lame exit strategy? Why didn't you have a better plan?"

There was a silence. Then:

"Budget cuts. Even evil organisations have them."

...

With handcuffs on (and a gag threatened for Beth), the two women were thrown in the back of the very undignified van.

Beth started struggling and looking for a way out. Ruth sat quietly and tried to focus on the horizon. There wasn't one.

"Come on," Beth barked. "Aren't you going to help me get out of this hole?"

"Um, in a minute."

"Are you having a nap? I hardly think this is the time."

"I..."

Her argument was cut off as a particularly violent wave of nausea hit.

"God, Ruth, are you travelsick?"

"Um, no?"

Beth jumped back as if it was contagious. "You are. You get travel sickness?"

"It's very mild."

"Well, I suppose we can't make our escape now then. We'll wait until they stop. How the hell did you get through MI5 training?"

"Strangely enough, none of their tests involve looking for car sickness."

...

The stop was an abandoned warehouse. Of _course_.

"This is so cliché," Beth spat. "I'm actually offended at this. You honestly couldn't come up with anything better, Vladimir?"

The leader slapped her across the face. "I'm getting sick of your backchat. And how did you know my name was Vladimir?"

"What, really? I was using that as an insult. A stereotype. But your name really is Vladimir?"

"Yes."

"God, this is such a depressing kidnapping. I should have stayed in the private sector. At least their abductions were original."

...

Ruth decided that the best idea was to stay calm and try to reason with the kidnappers on a level term. Beth decided that the best idea was to spit and scream abuse at the Russians.

After the fifth "Your mother is a drunken whore" comment, the Russians got really fed up and took the gloves off. Well, the masks really. But you get the point.

Ruth sighed. If the men were taking their masks off, it meant that they didn't care about being identified because they were going to kill their captives. Lovely end to a terrible day. She just hoped that Harry would spend the rest of his life feeling really guilty about this.

"Poshol na khui"

What would he say at her memorial service? Would he admit what an idiot he'd been? Would he apologise? No, knowing Harry, he'd put on a brave face and make up some rubbish about a "loss to the country." Pompous bastard.

"Kooshite govno ee oomeeite!"

"Beth, will you please stop that? I don't think you swearing at the Russians in their own language will make them anymore friendly towards us."

"You speak Russian? I didn't know that."

"No, I don't speak Russian."

"How did you know I was swearing at them then?"

She just stared at Beth. "It's probably because I've heard you speak before. You swear a lot."

"Fair enough."

While Beth continued with her verbal assault on the Russian language, Ruth eavesdropped on the two guards standing next to them.

"What are we supposed to do with them, Vladimir? They don't act as though they will give up the information voluntarily."

"Then we take the information from them."

"Torture? I don't like the idea of that. It's not right. They are so much...weaker than the other operatives in the past."

Ruth breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Beth, they aren't going to torture us."  
"They aren't?"

"No. I think it's because we're women and they're uncomfortable with the idea."

Most people would be expected to be relieved at this information. No torture = good times. Unfortunately, Beth Bailey was not most people.

"Hey, asshole_, _say that to my face. You aren't going to torture us because we're _girls_? That's really sexist!"

"Beth! What the hell are you doing?"  
"They're being sexist!"  
"I don't care! They can be sexist if it saves me from being hurt!"

"It's not right. I fought long and hard to be treated as an equal and I don't want to lose that!"  
"You'd rather be tortured?"  
"Well, yeah."

...

Ten minutes later and this was the situation. Beth was begging for the Russians to torture her – just so she could be seen as a man's equal. Vladimir and his cronies were staring at her in disbelief while they decided what to do.

Ruth (bound at the wrists and ankles) was desperately trying to shuffle across the room as she distanced herself (literally) from her colleague. She didn't care if it was sexist or not. She didn't want to be tortured.

"Ow! Son of a...mule."

She didn't like swearing. It was unnecessary. There was no need for it. Even if she had just toppled over and was now lying face down with her cheek squashed against the concrete.

She blamed Beth. None of this would have happened if that girl hadn't moved in.

The Russians had eventually decided to torture Beth. It was probably just an attempt to shut her up instead of an effort to get any real information.

Ruth was quite sickened by how pleased the blonde was about the decision.

"Beth, do you have certain...fetishes that I should know about?"

"Excuse me?"

She was being strapped to a chair and still smiling. This was wrong on so many levels but Ruth tried to persevere.

"Well, I understand that people have different, um, things that they take pleasure from and..."  
"What the hell are you talking about?"

Vladimir helped them out. "She thinks you're an S and M junkie."

"What? Why the hell would you think that?"  
"Beth, you begged to be tortured. And you're grinning about it."

"It's only because I'm enjoying the equality! God, I'm not a sadist or anything."

"Actually, a sadist is a person that delivers the pain. A masochist is a person that enjoys receiving it. And it's fine if you are one. I'd just need you to never bring anyone back to the flat."

"First of all; I pay rent so I can bring back whoever I want to the flat. Secondly – how the hell do you know about S and M?"

Vladimir cleared his throat. "Ladies, I hate to interrupt the bickering but we're on a schedule. Can I start with the torture?"

"Of course, sure. Sorry."

Ruth was fairly certain that she couldn't watch Beth be tortured. She'd be sick everywhere. With the rope around her hands, she wouldn't even be able to wipe it away and that could get gross.

Plus, what if Beth cracked under torture and gave away sensitive information? It was her duty to stop that happening, wasn't it? The responsibility was all on her!

"Ruth? Ruth, are you hyperventilating? The torture hasn't started yet. And it's not even happening to you."

"Right. Sorry."

...

She could hear Vladimir getting the instruments ready to hurt Beth with. The other men were threatening all the things they were going to do. God, she hated being in this situation. Why did everyone else have to die and leave her as tactical support? It was ridiculous!

Somehow, Ruth found a loose piece of rock against one of the walls and started working away at the ropes. That's how they did it in the movies, wasn't it?

It took longer than it did in the movies. She was pretty sure that nobody in the movies nearly sliced a vein open with the loose piece of rock either. Anyway, she was eventually free.

Flicking off the blood, Ruth tried to think of the best plan of action. She didn't have one. She didn't do this kind of thing very often. Well, ever, really.

She didn't try to think of a complicated plan or subtleties. For a minute, she just stayed quiet and paid attention to what was going on across the room.

Vladimir left the room to get some "tools of torture" and the remaining goon stood watch over Beth while she continued to swear in Russian.

Nobody was there to watch over Ruth. That was definitely a good thing but it was also a little depressing. Nobody thought she was worth guarding? They broke into the apartment with dozens of men and they couldn't spare one thug to look over her? Still, it made it easier to escape.

...

Ruth's grand plan was to creep up behind the goon and hold the sharp rock (that she had cut her bonds with) to his throat. Things didn't go quite as planned.

Halfway across the room, Ruth tripped over her own feet and let out a rather undignified squeal. The goon (who probably had a name but it's not needed) turned at the noise. Ruth fell straight into the man, knocked him over the head with the rock (entirely by accident) and they both fell onto the floor.

"That was _amazing_," Beth gushed. "I really didn't think you had it in you."

Tangled within the limbs of an unconscious Russian, Ruth decided to just take the credit.

...

Ruth's hands were shaking too much to untie Beth's wrists quickly and she had to put up with the younger woman's complaints.

"God, Ruth, have you got the shakes already? I didn't think you were _that_ old."

"I'm not old!"

Beth raised an eyebrow as she shook out her (finally) freed wrists. Ruth frowned. She wasn't _that_ old. Was she?

"What's the plan now? Shall we call for backup again or just sneak out the back door?"

Beth picked up the gun from the unconscious guard. "I'm getting some revenge."

That didn't sound like much fun. For Ruth, anyway. Beth would probably have a whale of a time.

...

Sure enough, Beth shot the next person she saw (which was thankfully a Russian and not one of their team coming to save them) and handed over the gun.

...

The other members of the Russian delegation were understandably concerned by the gunfire and all came running. The next few minutes were definitely the most frantic of Ruth's life. They involved lots of smoke, lots of swearing and her just shooting in a general direction and hoping to hit the right people.

When it was all over, there were dead bodies on the floor, Beth was grinning and Ruth was leaning against a wall to make sure she didn't collapse.

"We made it," Beth said with much more excitement in her voice than was appropriate.

"Yes. It looks like we did."

Beth must have noticed how close she was to just passing out and holstered her gun before walking over.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Fine. Good."

"It's okay to be scared. I know you don't get out of the office much. And I was scared as well."

"You were?"

"Of course. I like the adrenaline but being shot at is still really scary. But you did good. You shot at least three of them. That's impressive."

Ruth bit her tongue and didn't explain that anyone shot by her was purely by accident. She could have just as easily have shot herself.

"I know I'm not the easiest person to live with," Beth said suddenly and a little bit awkwardly. "I drink juice out of the carton and I use your toothbrush when I can't find my own...But I'm really glad that you were here. If I have to be kidnapped by sexist Russians, I'm glad you were with me."

It was such an unexpected and touching admission that Ruth was almost prepared to overlook the toothbrush comment.

"Beth, I..."

"We're here!"

Both women turned to look at the new entries. Harry and Lucas led the armed charge but there were numerous other random agents behind them (Do they even get names?).

The men looked rather disappointed at the dead bodies on the floor.

"We came to save you."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Good job with that, guys. We're really glad you're here."

She bickered with Lucas a little more as the agents cleared the area and made sure that everything was in order. In a very 'casual' manner (not at all casual), Harry made his way to Ruth.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing he said to her. "I was...uh, I was out of line earlier."  
"Yes, you were."

"I, uh, I have to confess that I didn't take your claims seriously enough. I didn't really think that you were being attacked and I hesitated. Of course, as soon as I knew you were right, I put together a team and we rushed straight over."

"You didn't rush quite fast enough, did you?" Beth muttered and then started insulting Lucas some more.

"I, well, I mean _we_ – the team – we were worried about you, Ruth. And Beth, of course."

"Yes, of course."

"I have to admit to fearing the worst."

"We were fine. We took care of ourselves."  
"Yes, I see that. Very impressive."

They just kind of stood and looked at each other while not _really_ looking at each other and shuffling on the spot. Good Lord, it was awkward. But that was what they had. She wouldn't change it for the world.

"Shall we go then?" he _finally_ said. "We'll get back to the office, write up the reports and maybe have a bracing cup of tea."

"Maybe something a _little_ bit stronger than that."

"Ah, yes, of course. Quite a day."

...

It was over. Their ordeal had ended. They had been saved. Well, technically, they'd saved themselves but she was sure that Lucas would find some way to take the credit.

They were walking towards the official vehicles and Ruth was deciding how many hours of therapy she would need to recover when she saw a glimmer of movement from the corner of her eye. Vladimir. He'd left to go and get torture instruments and had never returned. Somehow he'd avoided the slaughter of his colleagues.

Now, Ruth wasn't a field agent. Her experience out of the office was very limited. Therefore, it would have been natural for her to raise the alarm and get one of the experienced agents to deal with their captor. But she was buoyed up by her accidental rescue of Beth and the fact that she only tripped over once. She was an MI5 agent, goddamnit, and she was going to prove it.

The borrowed gun was still in her pocket so she took it out and aimed carefully. Sure, she wasn't the best aim but Vladimir was only a few feet away. How could she miss?

Shooting the gun with her eyes closed was probably her first mistake.

Ruth heard the thud of a bullet hitting flesh and a cry of pain. Sadly, it wasn't the voice she was hoping for.

"Bloody hell! Ruth, you just _shot_ me!"

Oh, dear.

In a movement that was almost casual, Lucas fired a single shot into Vladimir's head and then turned to his injured colleague.

"Beth, are you okay?"

"It was just a graze. I don't think it hit anything important. Ruth, what the hell is wrong with you? Did you get Stockholm Syndrome or something? I know I can be annoying but to _shoot_ me?"

Ruth tried stuttering an explanation but everyone was much more concerned with stopping Beth's bleeding. She was sure that she'd get a better chance to explain herself later on. After Beth had been to the hospital.

There and then, Ruth decided to never ever leave the MI5 building. Maybe she'd get in less trouble that way.


End file.
